Bachelorette Party
by the infamou5 c0pyc4t
Summary: Rukia and Ichigo are getting married! Time to celebrate before their lives together! MA (Cheating warning)
1. Chapter 1

**Bachelorette Party**

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"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Ichigo asked his fiancée as they were getting ready to part. His hands were stuffed in his pants pockets as he rocked back and forth of his soles; he was nervously excited. It was the night of his bachelor party, and Keigo had insisted on planning the whole thing right away. He seemed a bit too eager, and Rukia had guessed that he hoped to get laid by a prostitute.

"Yes, it's fine," Rukia sighed for the umpteenth time. It was admirable of him to care so much for her consent, but it was somewhat overbearing. She trusted him not to give into the tests of Keigo and 'tap' whatever ass he was dared to. "Just go, fool! Otherwise you'll miss it." She playfully smacked his head, and he smiled at her. He told her that he wouldn't have too much fun and gave her a chaste kiss on her lips. Waving at her as he raced down the street, he promised he wouldn't be out late.

Rukia rolled her eyes. Her fiancé was sometimes too noble. They had their fights, but it was never over anything serious. To be honest, she wanted a bit more from the relationship, but she didn't know what. He was kind and attentive to her; he was working and gaining a reasonable salary – though she could live in Soul Society and be a noble. She wasn't sure that the problem was their sex life. He was a great fuck and had learned all the places to touch her to make her cum. But, perhaps she wanted something else…

Sighing softly, she turned to make her way back up to her apartment room. For the rest of the night, she guessed she'd just have a small snack and go to bed. How the hell was she supposed to know that her home had been invaded when she opened the door?

"Surprise!" came the collected exclamation. She was so stunned that she almost fell on her ass. In the room that she had left not even fifteen minutes ago had been filled with champagne, balloons, and female friends. She wondered how this could've been accomplished without her knowing, but when she saw Rangiku, standing there in her schoolgirl uniform, Rukia knew that the bustiest woman in Soul Society led the rest of the guests in through the vents.

When she had gotten over her shock, Rukia smiled dumbly and wandered into the room to recognize all the faces. There was Tatsuki and her group, Isane and her younger sister, Yoruichi, and Hinamori. Rangiku made the tenth guest. As Rukia said hi to every individual at the gathering, she noticed that there was one face that wasn't there that she expected would've been there. But then again, Orihime hadn't even spoken to Rukia since Ichigo proposed. Ichigo may have been dumb to the airheaded girl's attraction to him, but Rukia wasn't; in a small way, she felt bad for accepting the proposal when she knew how deeply Orihime cared for Ichigo.

"Come here, Miss Engaged!" laughed Rangiku. With one hand holding a bottle of personal sake, she wrapped an arm around Rukia, making the smaller shinigami uncomfortable when half of her face sunk against the huge tit. Rangiku downed her alcohol before moving the intended woman to sit down in between her and Kiyone; the short-haired girl congratulated Rukia while putting a novelty bridal veil on her head.

"So you plan to take the plunge with Ichigo?" Yoruichi mused as she walked over, bending over at the waist to be at eyelevel with her pupil's fiancée. She smirked. "I hope you can handle him. He does have wandering eyes."

Rukia took the comment only as a joke. Thinking of Ichigo as promiscuous was ridiculous. She told the ebony woman that he would be no problem for her. Yoruichi only winked at her, and then strolled off to have some champagne.

"Well, Kuchiki, how do you like it? I had to work really hard to get this together the moment your hubby was out for the night," Rangiku said after snagging a bottle of champagne and chugging it. She fell onto the sofa and wrapped an arm around Rukia, smothering her in her exposed cleavage; Rukia cried for air. "Just be sure to enjoy yourself. Is that a deal?"

Rukia, after forcing her way out of Rangiku's hold, nodded frantically. "Hai, Matsumoto-san," she gasped as respectfully as she could. While she tried to catch her breath, she missed the twinkle of mischief in the buxom woman's light-blue eyes.

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It was nearing midnight, and everyone was a happy from the alcohol. Rangiku, strangely enough, wasn't very active, content to just sit on the couch and watch Rukia and the other women play some good-natured bachelorette games.

When a knock came at the door, Rangiku finally pried herself from the couch, insisting to the wobbly Rukia that she would attend to whoever it was who was at the door. Rukia nodded and settled down on the couch to wait until the room stopped spinning.

Rangiku slid out of the room to make sure no one could get a peek at who it was at the door. From the way this man was dressed, she knew it was the male stripper she had ordered. With a shirt that defined his muscles and could easily be removed and pants that were kept together with Velcro, Rangiku knew that this was going to turn into a very fun night.

The mask was lifted up, and Rangiku was astonished to learn who this man was. "Rangiku! What're you doing here?" Renji exclaimed.

Rangiku burst out laughing. She couldn't believe how well he was disguised with his fiery hair slicked back and not in a ponytail. The bandana covered up the tattoos on his brow, and the black mask helped cover him up more. If Rangiku, someone who could handle her liquor, couldn't recognize him, Rukia surely wouldn't. That could make things a little easier.

"Abarai, what are _you_ doing here?" She laughed and teasingly pulled at his costume, much to his discomfort.

Face flushing, Renji explained his situation. "I had to get a job," he grumbled. "Urahara-san usually lets me stay at his place for free, but his helpers give me a lot of crap about freeloading. This was the only job I could get."

Biting her lower lip, Rangiku chuckled in her throat as she eyed his crotch. "You must've had some very convincing 'assets' then."

Shaking his head, Renji stepped back and quickly moved his mask back in place. "No way! I can't do this for you!"

"It's not for me, though. It's for Kuchiki. Haven't you heard that she's engaged to Ichigo?" Renji shifted his lips and quietly said that he knew of it. "Well, Abarai, this could be your chance to show Kuchiki how it's done. I hired you, after all. If you walk away, I'll complain until you get fired. Now get your ass in there, and get butt-naked!" With a cheer, she spun around and leapt back into the room.

Renji, left with no options, cleared his throat and made sure his mask was firmly in place. "I hope they don't recognize me," he muttered, and waited for the music.

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Calling all attention to her, Rangiku stood in front of the CD player while everyone looked at her. She readied a finger on the 'Play' button. She stared solely at Rukia, who seemed bamboozled by her behavior. "Kuchiki Rukia, you're going to get married! That's the end of fun for you! So tonight, I hired someone to let you live just a bit more!" The erotic music began to play, and the door opened.

The girls in the room gasped together when a masked man sauntered into the room, his hips gyrating and his hands running along his torso. With the mask in place, no one could see how flushed he was or notice the nervous sweat running down his brow. When he saw the emptied champagne bottles, he felt a bit of relief in knowing that these girls were too drunk to actually take notice of who he was.

Rukia – though a little disoriented from the several helpings of alcohol – could recognize this situation, and was appalled that Rangiku could do such a thing. The busty woman was practically laughing her head off when she plopped down next to Rukia, breasts almost bursting from her halfway undone blouse. "I hope you like it, Kuchiki!"

Before Rukia could utter a word of her shock, the thin shirt of the stripper was torn off, making the girls squeal as they fawned over his muscular, tattooed chest; Isane started to make a connection, but she denied herself for the sake of Renji's honor. To try to forget the notion she had, she downed two more goblets of champagne.

Next off were the tear-away pants. Renji felt his blush increase while discarding his pants, now standing in front of a bunch of people he knew in just a banana hammock that was uncomfortably flattering. He mustered the grit and got it over with; he slipped aside the flashy garment and unleashed his semi-hard cock.

He couldn't hear the compliments given to his size, but he saw Tatsuki and Ryou gawk while Mahana tried to replicate the size of his cock with the space between her hands, much to Chizuru's disgust; Michiru simply passed out. Seeing Hinamori's jaw drop made him feel particularly weird, as she was one of his oldest friends. Only when he saw Yoruichi's reaction did he feel a little embarrassed. She glanced down at him, showed no reaction, and sipped idly on her champagne. His seven-and-a-half inch penis was big, but she'd seen bigger; she decided not to tell Rukia about her little sexual encounter with Ichigo during training.

But the reaction that mattered was Rukia's. Luckily, she was impressed by it, and Rangiku was just making her more interested. "The lucky girl's right here!" Rangiku announced, pointing at Rukia. The petite girl whimpered when the stripper approached her with his cock wagging in front of him. What did he expect her to do with him rotating his hips with the penis jiggling at her face? "Here, let me show her how it's done." Rangiku reached out and grabbed the cock, much to Renji's disbelief; he managed not to exclaim, for his voice couldn't be hidden as well as his face. Still, he followed the tug on his genitals and stood in front of Rangiku.

She smirked evilly up at him before flicking her tongue out to massage the head of his cock. He had gotten this sort of woman in clubs before, so he was trained not to make a sound as she took his cock in between her lips and suckled sweetly.

All around, the other guests were flabbergasted. Rangiku was actually giving head right in front of them, which was shameful by all accounts. Yet, it was also arousing. Yoruichi, though not excited by the man himself, did find this act to be enticing; she would have to have some fun with Rangiku sometime…

Rangiku impressed everyone when she took the cock all the way down her throat for more than three seconds; some of the more involved women – like Yoruichi, Tatsuki, and Kiyone – cheered the endeavor. She pulled back with a heavy gasp, and then sighed. She jerked Renji hard, watching the expressions play out from his gritting mouth. "You like that?" she purred before smacking the cock against the exposed portion of her tits. The heavy flesh jiggled from the light hits, and Renji couldn't help gasping when she slid his cock in between them; it was a lovely and soft vice around him.

"Now that you got it up," Rangiku teased as she removed the phallus from what Kon dubbed 'the Valley of the Gods', "you can tend to our sweet, little bachelorette."

Renji nodded without a word. With his dick now completely hard, his brain was a bit more muddled and focused on relieving his hard arousal. He reached down to Rukia's blouse, and to her surprise, ripped it halfway to expose her breasts. Rangiku gasped with a smile, and then said that Rukia was much more endowed than she let on; she suggested that Rukia should wear a bit more flattering attire to accent her full b-cup breasts. "N-no," stammered Rukia while she tried to fight away the stripper's pawing hands. "I'm with Ichigo!"

"He's not going to know," Rangiku said with a roll of the eyes. She took a firm hold of Rukia's hand and forced her to touch the penis. As if burned, Rukia pulled away and admonished Rangiku. Her prudish attitude was beginning to annoy Rangiku, and she once again had to resort to force. "Here, just have a taste." She urged Rukia forward, and while Rukia tried not to give in, the stripper pushed his hips forward and filled her mouth. Her eyes were wide as several inches moved into her mouth. Looking around frantically, she stared at her guests. They all had a grin of utter shock on their faces, and Rukia knew that none of them would tell Ichigo… Thank God.

When she was allowed to move on her own, Rukia pulled back and gasped. When asked how it was by Rangiku, she didn't answer and just dove back on the cock. This excited her, for some reason, sucking on a dick that wasn't Ichigo's while a bunch of her friends watched. She couldn't imagine what her fiancé would say if he walked in right now and saw her mouth bobbing back and forth on another man's penis. Rangiku gave words of encouragement to her, kissing her cheek usually or licking at the balls underneath the cock. At some point, her hands found their way to Rukia's breasts and began to toy with her pink nipples. Moaning, Rukia's mouth moved quicker and added a few good licks from base to tip.

"I think you're ready now, Kuchiki," sang Rangiku. She pried the aroused girl off of the stripper's dick and leaned her back. Under the woman's instruction, Rukia scooted her hips forward and hiked up her skirt. When Rukia asked if she should really be doing this, Rangiku assured her that it was fine. "It's a bachelorette party, after all! C'mon, stripper-boy!" She moved aside Rukia's white panties to reveal her bare pussy. To offer it easier to the male stripper, she lifted Rukia's legs in a 'V' shape in the air. "Just shove that nice cock of yours in here!"

In all honesty, Renji had no qualms about this, for he wanted this for so long since he met her. Licking his dry lips, he positioned his cock at her hole and slid in. She arched her back and gripped the edge of the cushion she sat on as she was slowly filled by an anonymous man's erection. His girth spread her nicely; she hadn't had sex with Ichigo for a while, as they decided that their next time they made love would be during their wedding night. Well, at least she was keeping the promise that she wouldn't have sex with _him_. That promise was made two months ago. This was so bad, so naughty; it was getting her off.

"Oh yeah, shove that cock in her pussy," urged Rangiku as she watched all of Renji's erection stuff into Ichigo's fiancée. She dove to begin suckling on Rukia's tits while a hand worked underneath her skirt, rubbing vigorously at her wet crotch.

This behavior was rubbing off on some of the other girls in the room. Tatsuki had begun to touch herself, but Chizuru pushed her hands away and replaced them with her mouth. She chuckled smugly at the black-haired girl and snuck her head underneath Tatsuki's skirt and wasn't at all shy to start eating her out; Tatsuki, while so aroused and intoxicating, allowed this, moaning and placing her hand atop the redhead's hair.

Even sisterly love was being shared. Kiyone – a sister jealous of her older sibling's beauty and attributes – finally had the chance to admire Isane's assets. Though Isane was somewhat reluctant to let herself to be disrobed by her little sister, her bust was eventually exposed to Kiyone's gaze. "Wow, Nee-san! These are very nice," Kiyone admitted while hefting one of Isane's tits up with her hand. She had dressed with Isane before, but never actually had a chance to actually size up her sister. "I wish mine were this nice."

"Kiyone, no," whimpered the silver-haired woman when Kiyone bent down and caught the rosy nipple in between her lips. At the moment, the two seemed more like mother and daughter than sisters. The blush on Isane's face increased, but she succumbed to the feeling and cradled her head. With her free hand, she reached down to slip underneath Kiyone's shirt to toy with her own, smaller breasts. The two eventually found themselves on the floor in a 69 position. A bit more shyly than Kiyone's fierce lickings to her trimmed pussy, Isane gave her sister's orange-crowned snatch cat-licks – short, small, and quick.

While those few toyed with another, the other women just touched themselves a little or just watched Rukia cheat on Ichigo with the tattooed man. His first thrusts were small to get the small girl used to it, and now he was fucking her like he should. She gasped out as his hips banged against her ass. Taking hold from Rangiku, he kept Rukia's legs elevated in the air, providing himself better access and easier thrusts. A few grunts of effort escaped him, but luckily Rukia wasn't trying to notice what he sounded like, and her moans drowned out his sounds.

"Let's switch it up a bit," panted Rangiku. She pulled a hand out from her panties and pushed Renji back. He took the moment to catch his breath while watching Rukia's position be manipulated again. She was now on her knees and leaning over the back of the sofa. Rangiku wanted to watch her be fucked like a bitch. With a wave of her hand, Rangiku told Renji to shove right back into her. He obeyed quickly and filled Rukia's pussy once again.

"Oh god!" Rukia threw her head back and screamed. She swore it felt like he had gotten even bigger while in this position. Looking down between her legs, she watched as the stripper's dick plunged in and out of her wet pussy while his swinging balls slapped her clit. Whimpering, she reached between her legs and began to massage his scrotum; he moaned and sped up his thrusts in response.

Again, Rangiku used her hands to play with Rukia's tits. She tugged and twisted them, making Rukia shudder with delight. The bachelorette's pussy quivered right along with the rest of her body, begging for some nice, hot semen. She couldn't get pregnant while in this Gigai body, but it still yearned for seed; she didn't know that Renji's body was just the same as hers.

Rukia had cum several times, the strongest one occurring when the stranger pounding her pussy thumbed her exposed anus. The sensation made her whole body tense to the extreme, and that was Renji's end. "Cumming," he warned in a choked breath. He pulled out and squeezed the tip of his penis to keep himself from a haphazard discharge.

Under Rangiku's instruction, Rukia spun back around and leaned forward towards the cock. She supported her breasts, offering them as extra targets for the ejaculation. She closed her eyes to avoid being blinded by what was to squirt from the large cock, and her tongue stuck out slightly to catch anything that she could swallow.

Now ready, Renji unleashed his clamping hand and now used it to stroke himself vigorously. Sure enough, he came with incredible vigor. He grunted and moaned as thick streams of his semen flowed onto Rukia's face and into her mouth. Nice, firm strokes helped the force of his discharge, and watching her lap up the portions that had already landed and swallow it helped too. He then aimed at her chest, shooting the last strings of white bursts on her tits and collarbone, equipping her with a 'pearl necklace'. When the last dribbles oozed in between her tits, he sighed and stumbled back to brace himself against a chair. Looking around, he saw that mostly everyone was asleep, exhausted by making themselves cum or because of the alcohol. Only Yoruichi and Rangiku remained standing; Rukia got up, but only to hurry to the bathroom to remove any evidence that she had just been fucked by a stranger.

"Nice job, Abarai," Rangiku teased before tossing a wad of cash at him. "We're gonna give you a great reference at the stripper office." Both she and Yoruichi laughed and settled down to share another drink.

Renji swallowed hard and awkwardly began to search around for his clothes. Hopefully Rukia would get rid of all traces of his presence here; he didn't want a Hollowfied Ichigo hunting him down

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"So how was it?" Rukia asked Ichigo when they met up the next afternoon at a café. She, of course, was referring to his bachelor party. "Were there any pretty girls stripping for you?"

Ichigo laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. "None particularly worth mentioning," he said. He then looked a bit more somber. "What about you? You weren't bored last night, were you?"

"Oh, I found a few ways to occupy myself," Rukia sighed with a mild shrug. Like hell she'd reveal what really happened.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. We're really busy today," the waitress said as she hurried over with bated breath. When she lifted her head to stare at her customers, she gasped. "Kuchiki-san? Kurosaki-kun?" Inoue Orihime covered the lower half of her face as she flushed. She and Ichigo pointedly looked away from each other. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

Ichigo cleared his throat and idly distracted himself with his fork. "Just having a little snack. Um, could we get some coffee, Inoue?"

Frantically, Orihime nodded and hurried inside to complete the order and ask that someone else take her shift. Their behavior was odd to Rukia, but perhaps she could've pieced the puzzle together if she noticed the red mark – similar to the hickeys Ichigo gave to Rukia – hidden beneath Orihime's cascading hair. But she never did notice the hickey, and never got the full details about the bachelor party.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Bachelor Party**

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Unbeknownst of his fiancée's public infidelity, Ichigo was having a nice time at Keigo's. Of course, the host was bouncing off the walls with excitement. To Ichigo, it seemed rather unwise for Keigo to blow all of his earnings on private dancers. There were only three women for five men, but Keigo seemed to be the only one getting into it. Chad stood off to the side, drinking punch idly as Uryuu – who was, at first, opposed to attending such a party – discussed the importance of looks and attire while exterminating Hollows.

Mizuiru glanced at the man of the hour, his small quaint smile on his face. "Aren't you enjoying it, Ichigo? You know, after you get married…" He didn't finish his sentence, leaving the 'tragic' ending unsaid.

Ichigo chuckled softly. "It's not so bad," he said, thinking of his fiancée and their future. Sure, there were arguments and disagreements that awaited them, but that was what brought them together. Besides, he wasn't like Mizuiru and Keigo, who were not a pair who seemed to be prepared for a monogamist relationship, hence the fact that they were never in an actual relationship for more than a few days at a time. And Mizuiru's fascination with older women just seemed creepy and unhealthy to Ichigo.

"Oi, Ichigo!" Keigo practically sang as he pranced over. He threw an arm over the redhead's shoulder and pointed to the bustiest dancer swaying herself against a blushing, apprehensive Uryuu. He almost crushed his plastic cup of punch in his fist when her knockers bumped against his chest. "Check out her rack, Ichigo! Big, juicy double-Ds!" He playfully nudged the soon-to-be-wed bachelor in his ribs. "She'll actually let you lick whipped-cream off of them for an extra fee. It's on me! Just as long as you pay half!"

His stupidity made Ichigo groan and fear the oncoming headache should the wild-pervert get too out of hand. "Knock yourself out," Ichigo grumbled before rolling his eyes and taking a quick sip from his cup.

"Aw~, Ichigo~…" Keigo sulked as though insulted. "But Rukia isn't stacked like _her_!" he said with a point to the dancer. "You can't expect me to stand by while you live your life without touching a pair of double-Ds! _Oof!_" He doubled over when an irate Ichigo hit him in the stomach with his elbow.

Ichigo gave him a sidelong stare. "I'm not like you," he said defensively.

Looking as though he had expected such a reaction from Ichigo, Keigo forced a grin over his pained face. "Well then, why don't you take a load off in my sister's room if you're not going to enjoy the festivities?"

"What?" Without waiting, Ichigo was suspiciously ushered towards the room Keigo was normally forbidden from entering.

"She's gone until tomorrow; just enjoy relax." There was something behind Keigo's smile, and Ichigo didn't trust it. Even so, he foolishly allowed himself to be led to Mizuho's bedroom. "Don't mind the candles; my sister had already set those up."

Arching an eyebrow when nudged through the doorway, Ichigo asked, "Then why are they lit?" The door suddenly slammed shut behind him, and Ichigo was made privy to an odd feature too late: a latch had been installed _outside_ the room, locking him within. Wheeling about, he punched his fist against the door, yelling at Keigo for an explanation.

"It's your bachelor party surprise!" Keigo replied, his voice wavering somewhat with fear. He knew that he very well could be subject to Ichigo's wrath when this was all over, but it was a favor for a certain busty blonde who had a taste for mischief. For any chance to get in her good graces, Keigo figured that he would endure a routine beating of the orange-haired shinigami.

What the hell was that moron scheming this time?! Ichigo couldn't wait to strangle the answer out of him. Snarling, he rammed his shoulder against the door, willing to break it down; Keigo would be the one Mizuho hunted down for retribution for her desecrated room. At the very least, the ruckus would catch Chad's or Uryuu's attention, and they would liberate him. As though he had planned to counter this method, Keigo turned up the volume of the stereo system, drowning out the thumping of Ichigo's body against the door.

"That bastard," growled Ichigo. His fists trembled, ready to punch a hole through the wood. Why would Keigo lock him in here? There was nothing…

He perked up when soft, exotic music began to play, not from outside, but from Mizuho's restroom. Was she there? It was so strange, almost eerie. There were candles flickering in the bathroom, and then Ichigo saw her, a woman of curves and beauty. So Keigo actually stashed a fourth dancer in his sister's room for a private dance for Ichigo?!

She wore a red mask over the upper portion of her face with white cloth in the center to conceal her eyes while still providing her with visibility. Her auburn hair – which should've been a dead giveaway to her identity – was folded up with two hairpins. The attire, or rather the lack of it, had Ichigo's jaw dropping when his eyes fell onto the attributes of her chest. The generous mounds looked like they would burst from the laced, red silk lingerie that clung tightly to her curvaceous figure. Panties of the same variety clung to her like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. Worn over her shapely legs were thigh-high stockings like the other dancers, but strangely, she did not wear any other footwear.

"Wha… Who…?" Ichigo was flabbergasted when this 'mystery' woman approached him, her hips swaying in hypnotic rhythm. She approached him confidently, but her cheeks were visibly flushed while her chin tucked in towards her chest. Her lips pressed together tightly in a line. He could swear he knew her, but the dimness of the room and the haze of alcohol's influence left him clueless; the selection of an outfit also threw him off since no one – other than Rangiku-san and her zanpakutou spirit – wore such revealing clothes.

There was a moment of dithering, and Ichigo was sure that he should increase the distance between them when she was standing right in front of him, but his legs felt locked up. It felt as though he had been hypnotized, for he couldn't form thought or movement. He inhaled sharply when her delicate hands touched his chest, sliding up to hook over his shoulders. One hand went to the back of his head, and before he could collect himself and protest, he was eased into a cherry-flavored kiss. Her lips, so soft and smooth; they massaged his, smearing some lip gloss against his mouth. It was far more sensual than Rukia's passionate, forceful kisses, almost as if this was a moment the dancer had been waiting years for.

Warnings of loyalty and morals rang over and over in his head, but his body was responding eagerly to her ginger caresses. Her breasts molded against his chest like supple pillows. He should back out, get away from this woman, and return to Rukia. Just how much did Keigo pay this dancer?! And what exactly was she paid to _do_?!

Surprisingly, she was the one to end the kiss, giving what sounded like a sigh of relief, as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Her hands kept on him, carefully sliding over his sternum, memorizing the feel of his defined muscles. Her right palm stopped over his heart, feeling the rush of its violent rhythm. She looked up at him with her veiled eyes; somehow, he could feel the passion of her gaze even without seeing them. "I… I…" Ichigo tried to find the words he should use right now to try to dissuade this abrupt situation from escalating.

She did not speak; she allowed her hands to communicate. Taking both of his hands in her own, she guided him towards the bed. He should've stayed in place; he should've done so much not to follow her in a mesmerized shuffle. The swelling in his jeans was most convincing, however, when contradicting what his conscience was telling him _not_ to do. "I'm…" He was eased down to sit at the edge of the mattress. "I'm engaged," he finally wheezed out, and though this fact made the dancer twinge slightly, it did not discourage her. She rubbed his muscles thoroughly, sending pleasurable waves of relaxation through him. He swallowed hard when she began to go down to her knees, positioning herself in a way Rukia did on nights when she was feeling frisky.

The dancer took a moment to brace herself when she eyed the tent at the front of his trousers. She set herself in a determined state of mind and turned her head upward to stare at Ichigo's face while her palms sensually ran up his thighs. Those alarms of caution went off again in his head, but Ichigo stayed his hand. His tongue drew back, pushing against his throat to prevent any words from slipping from him. She tenderly massaged the muscles of his thighs, feeling him clench underneath her touch. His breath was sharp while he watched her. It took a great deal of strength to keep his hands at his sides; he couldn't decide whether to protect himself from her or aid her when she went for his zipper.

The teeth were parted slowly, the sound echoing in Ichigo's ears to be engraved in his memory as his greatest moment of weakness. It had been two months since he had known the touch of a woman and satisfying release; he couldn't combat those primal urges when his loins throbbed eagerly. The slit of his pants were spread, and the woman's warm hand slipped in, passing through his boxers to grasp the prize within. Ichigo grunted a bit and raised his bottom from the bed to help her extract his erection.

It sprung from his pants, and the dancer could not hide her shock at its size. She had been prepared for him to be gifted, but _this_ was a bit more than she was ready for. It throbbed eagerly in her fist, a dose of pre-cum pumping from the swollen tip. Swallowing hard, she set her hand at the base of the shaft, utilizing the method she had practiced before. Once more, she glanced at Ichigo's face and saw how flushed he was. There was need in his eyes, masked with apprehension. She would rid him of that anxiety… and swallow it all down.

"_Uhn_…" Ichigo clenched his teeth tightly when he felt her tongue touch the head of his cock, lapping up the sticky jots. After consuming the pre-cum, her pink lips closed around the tip, suckling slowly and metrically. Her tongue whirled around the captured crown, carefully teasing the slit that beaded more sweet-tasting fluid. Slowly, she engulfed more and more of him, and with a bit of grit, she suppressed her gag reflex to allow him to slide even deeper into her orifice until he was nudging the start of her esophagus. She tried to take him a bit further, but it was too much for her inexperienced mouth and throat; tears reflexively stung the corners of her eyes, and she gagged around him.

Though she could hardly take him halfway in, it was an inch farther than Rukia's smaller body could accept. Ichigo timed his breath as best as he could when her constricting lips moved up and down on his length, her tongue dancing around it, teasing its senses. Without taking him from the warm confines of her mouth, she moved her hands up to the button of his jeans, and with his help, it came undone. It was only then when she took her mouth from him, if only to help him wriggle out of his pants and underwear so that they could bunch around his ankles. She pushed up the hem of his shirt to have better access to his groin, and after scraping her fingernails along his tensed thighs, she inserted him into her mouth again. Her hand went to his sac to pull carefully on it, rolling the pulsating testicles in her palms. Blue balls: it wasn't the first time Ichigo suffered from them after keeping himself sexually repressed – excluding his little encounter with Yoruichi during his bankai training – though he had made an agreement with Rukia not to engage each other sexually until the wedding night. Well, he wasn't with _Rukia_, so the pact wasn't exactly broken, though he knew he would feel wretched in the morning. For now, blame it on the small consumption of alcohol and the ache of his full balls.

The redhead bobbed smoothly up and down his shaft, slurping at the enlarged head. She whimpered softly as she worked him with her mouth. Her mouth extracted him so that her tongue could trail down the underside of his shaft. A rather feeble whimper left his lips when her mouth cradled one of his pulsating balls. She drew on it gently, careful not to cause him anything but pleasure. She lathered his scrotum with her saliva before returning to his cock with tender kisses and suckling.

Ichigo's hands could no longer stay idle at his sides. He felt the procrastinated release churning, ready to unload under the constant, attentive ministrations of the stranger's mouth. Either side of the girl's head was clasped by his hands, trying ineffectually to pry her off of his cock before he met his shameful, disloyal climax. "I'm cumming," he finally told her, though she did not need to be warned; she could tell what was happening when the testes in her hands pulled up and his cock throbbed more eagerly than before. She fought against his pulls, willing to take his orgasm. Of course, these opposing forces caused a slip on the elastic strap of her mask. The mask fell away, and Ichigo found himself staring down into the surprised, gray eyes of Inoue Orihime. "Inoue?!" A voice in the back of his head told him he should've guessed…

Though her cover was blown and he showed true shock, Orihime refused to take him from her orifice. It was probably the way she was staring at him that broke him. Fingers fisting in her tied-up hair, he hissed while his testicles blasted their retained load up his penis to jet into her mouth. Orihime gave a soft whimper when the first taste of semen gushed over her tongue to swamp her taste buds with the flavor that only she would be accustomed to, even if it was her first time. Reflexively, after the second shot, her throat muscles flexed to drain her mouth with several loud gulps that transferred a heavy load of seed to her stomach. He exclaimed with each salty discharge until his overloaded testicles spent a great portion to slake Orihime's appetite. What a treat for him; Rukia never swallowed.

Relieved, Ichigo fell back, exhausted as if _he_ did all the work. At his lap, Orihime pulled off of him with a deep gasp. The flavor that was uniquely Ichigo was still heavy in her mouth, and she swallowed to make sure she had every droplet in her belly. She reflected on what was just done; she was a horrible person. Ichigo belonged to another, no matter how hard she pined for him. She shouldn't have done this, and _wouldn't have_ had none other than Matsumoto Rangiku not suggested it. The mischievous lieutenant had taught Orihime some things during the girl's vulnerable moments when Ichigo and Rukia had announced their engagement, which led to Orihime's hymen being broken by a phallus strapped onto Rangiku's crotch; not how she envisioned her first time, but Rangiku was loving and tender. On the sidelines of the engagement, Rangiku was the one pulling the strings of both parties, if only to separate the two love-birds and create some trouble on both sides; perhaps she just really wanted to open this window for Orihime to demonstrate to Ichigo how strongly she felt for him.

A blowjob wasn't enough. Orihime hung her head in shame; she was a horrible person… She chastised herself mentally, but did not stop the wiggle of her hips or the descent of her panties as they were peeled from her like the skin of a fruit. She was drenched with the need for Ichigo's 'love'. It hadn't even been established if he would refuse her.

"Inoue," he finally gasped out. His eyes focused on her, though they appeared deeply glazed, lacking clarity and an understanding of the consequences. "Why? What are you doing?"

Orihime simply smiled at him and touched his cheek. "I want to be with you, Kurosaki-kun," she admitted. "Just for tonight." Though he tensed when the bed shifted, Orihime scooted up to straddle his lap. He felt the heat of her arousal pressing up against his cock; he noticed the absence of hair in that region – another suggestion of Rangiku's for the big night. Her lips were on him, deliberately missing his mouth to peck along his jaw, his chin and forehead while her fingertips caressed every feature of him before tangling in his surprisingly soft hair. Her breath was flowing against his ear like the constant, heavy tide of the ocean.

Her hips rolled a bit to get into position, and Ichigo wound up helping her, despite his pledged loyalty to his fiancée, his dear, sweet, loyal Rukia… His cockhead pressed against the slick lips of Orihime's pussy, but she was the one who initiated the insertion by lowering her hips on him. They shared a shuddering gasp, and she had to work herself up and down on him a little bit before her tight body was willing to accept him almost to the base of his nine-inch cock. Ichigo breathed her name when he sunk into her, his hands cementing on her waist, keeping his strength in check. She was so tight around him, hot and wet.

Orihime was lost in the moment when she impaled herself on his staff. He was in her. _She and Kurosaki Ichigo_ were intimately joined! Since the announcement of his engagement, Orihime feared that the chance to connect with him on such a level was well out of reach. And now, here they were with him beneath her, his hands supporting her hips. She honestly could say that she could not remember being so happy. Supporting her upper body by placing her hands on his chest, she arched her back in a way that made her bosom threaten to spill out of her form-fitting bodice. She moaned Ichigo's name when she began to rock her body up and down on his shaft.

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo moved his hips up to meet each of her thrusts, carefully wedging himself deeper into her, spreading the tight passage of her cervix. It hurt a little, but Orihime was willing to endure. Ichigo refrained from forcing himself into her, but the end of his cock did ram against the narrow passage with force she was not accustomed to.

Their bodies moved in perfect sync, but Orihime lacked the stamina of her lover. Despite keeping up with Tatsuki in the dojo at times, she eventually collapsed over him. They took a moment to catch their breaths, and then Ichigo changed their positions so that they were cuddling in a spooning position. With her thighs closed, her snatch felt tighter around him, making it a bit more difficult to move in and out of her. It wasn't that feeling that Orihime enjoyed; it was the comfort of Ichigo's arm wrapping around her midsection to keep them joined while the other arm acted as a pillow for her head.

Ichigo held her tightly against him, grunting roughly as he pushed his crotch against her backside. "_Ah_, Inoue…" His lips latched onto the base of her neck and suckled passionately. The feeling made her squirm; it tickled. His teeth pinched her before he took his mouth away from the hickey he impulsively left on her. The moment his mouth was unoccupied, it was claimed by Orihime's; she turned her head as far as she could and reached back with a hand to pull him into the deep kiss.

His hips curled up to meet hers with faster, stronger thrusts. They both had been abstinent too long to stave off their climax for long, but Ichigo was determined to make Orihime's a grand explosion. The arm embracing her midsection slid up and yanked down the cups of her lingerie, fondling the chest that dwarfed his fiancée's. Her pink nipples were taut from arousal, tingling when Ichigo's fingers ghosted over them, caressing and toying with them.

Her moans filled Ichigo's mouth when she came, her body locking up and her fingertips digging into his scalp. He felt her snatch constrict to the point where he was unable to do anything but push in further, which was exactly what he did. Her muscles flexed around him, eager to milk him of his seed. With Rukia, he was extremely careful not to slip, and now was no exception. He made to pull out, but Orihime frantically kept him embedded in her convulsing depths. "Please, Kurosaki-kun! Please, inside of me!" she begged him before moaning loudly. It seemed she didn't have to wait long before undeniable heat surged through her cervix to spread in her womb. Ichigo howled in pleasure, shoving up into her as he spent his second load. His balls were drained, and he was utterly satisfied.

Panting, sweaty, and sharing some small sense of guilt under greater satisfaction, the two stayed cuddled up together. Orihime kept her eyes contently shut as she concentrated all other senses on Ichigo: his scent, the sound of his labored breath, his taste that still lingered in her mouth, the feel of his heartbeat against her back and his softened member slipping from her snatch after depositing every pearly dollop of semen into her. She couldn't help the excited smile that crossed her face. No one but her needed to know the actual father if she turned out pregnant. The red hair of the possible infant could be explained as coming from its mother, though the probable scowl might be a bit more difficult to explain when set next to Ichigo's.

The moment was heavenly, but Ichigo sat up all at once, placing his head in his hands. Gods, what had he done? Cheating on Rukia, misleading the impressionable girl lying right next to him. He could not promise her a romance that she deserved. He felt that he should apologize to her, but how could one do that? Obviously, they both enjoyed what they had done, and to some degree, they might've regretted it; the truth was, however, that they wouldn't have changed a thing other than the circumstances and timing.

Semen leaked from Orihime's snatch, leaving a puddle when she sat up with Ichigo. Nervously, she moved a hand over to his knee and was gratefully surprised when he held it. "We… we can't mention this," he told her nervously. He hated sneaking around behind Rukia's back, but he didn't know how to handle this situation that would've never happened were it not for Keigo! Yes, the perfect scapegoat… though Ichigo would own up to his own responsibilities.

Orihime nodded and carefully stood up. With her face flushed, she carefully tucked her breasts beneath the crimson lingerie. Reverting to her usually bubbly self, she beamed at Ichigo and promised that she would not breathe a word of this to anyone… except maybe Rangiku, who would get it out of her one way or another. Ichigo simply smiled, and began to contemplate on how to get out of the locked room and sneak Orihime out with him.

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The morning found Keigo's home a mess. The guests and dancers had all left; Keigo was alone with only Mizuiru, both passed out from excitement and excessive drinking, though they weren't big drinkers in the first place. Keigo was unwise to be caught in such a state so early, for none other than Mizuho was standing in the doorway, disapproval mirrored on her scowling face. Well, her little brother would have a lot of cleaning up to do when he woke up.

Stepping over the bodies of her little brother and his friend, she headed in a straight path to her room. First note when she would inevitably strangle her brother: her doorframe had been damaged because a latch had been broken open. That would be an interesting thing for Keigo to explain, she mused while stepping into her dark room. Second note: her cherished, mood-setting candles had all been used and barely had any wick left. Why the hell was he using _her_ candles for Ichigo's bachelor party?

Then she saw a stain on her bed that had yet to be soaked in by the fabric. The bed sheets were rumbled by the presence of two obviously-rowdy people. There was a grim look on her face when she swept her fingertip through the gooey, white patch. It didn't take a second thought to guess what this fluid was. Her teeth clenched tightly as she simmered with anger. "**_KEIGO_**!"

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End file.
